Walking into the kitchen, Enid and I halt at the door and watch him busying himself, preparing dinner. He seems oblivious to our presence. The music is on. The lazy jazz notes fill the air. The saxophone tune and a soothingly raspy voice sing an ode to life. Its melody is lulling, completing the picture in front of me. My heart forgets that there are so many unknowns looming over my head and gains speed in my chest. It's galloping, just as Zola did over the hills of Arcadia. My thoughts aren't my own. They are his. They never were when it came to Mason. Who am I trying to fool? Even with the uncertainty of our present situation I still have a hard time finding a resolution.
He could have made me aware of what was happening. A few more details could have helped. I'd like to think that I'm a reasonable person.
Enid looks at me, and smirks but either way she seems just as entranced by the scene unfolding before our eyes just as much as I am.
Mason is a chameleon. And I love that quality in him. I suppose we all have to be one, in order to survive. Adapt.
When Mason turns around to set the table, he catches us staring and smiles.
" Ladies," He slightly inclines his head in greeting, " Please, make yourselves comfortable. Dinner will be served in a few minutes," He charmingly waves us towards our seats. I can't help myself but swoon. And I'm pretty sure, I began ovulating the moment he smiled.
" My, my," Enids sways her hips to the seat that Mason is holding for her and gracefully slides into her seat while Mason pushes the chair for her.
" Is this your way of apologising for taking my little girl away from me? Because it is going to take a lot more than a meagre meal to compensate me for my loss," Enid deadpans, and I stifle a giggle. The woman is dangerous.
Mason clears his throat," I'll spend every waking moment to make up for your loss," He walks around the table, and pulls the chair for me as well.
When I don't know what to do with myself, he waves to the seat and offers me a dazzling smile. He is either buttering me up for our upcoming conversation or he is trying to charm his way into my bed. Either way, neither of those things is going to happen. As much as I care for him. I also care for myself and I don't think my heart can take any more than it already has.
" Thank you," I say as I slide into my seat and wait for Mason to push the chair before fully settling in it.
The meal is simple. Nothing special, but it is also tasty. Particularly, because I still vividly remember the watery soup Graham and I shared for months.
" So," Enid sighs," Why do I have a feeling that this early departure has your name written all over it," Enid is not letting go. That is not good. I look at Mason who slowly swallows the mouthful, before answering.
" Because it has my name written all over it. As you already know, I don't do things halfway, " A convoluted version of the truth. Enid hums, and nods in understanding.
" One of these days you'll have to start telling the truth, Mr Kinnaird," Enid chides, pointing her fork at Mason from across the table. Mason leans back in his chair, and takes a sip of his wine, slowly drawing his upper lip between his teeth. He is stalling.
" One day, but that day is not today Enid," He finally gives his answer, and takes another sip of his wine. I watch his throat bob as he swallows, and I all can think is of how soft his skin is there, and how good it feels to touch.
My eyes travel downward to his chest, at the skin his showing, and my heart does this crazy thing where it briefly stops, as if it trying to decide if this is the moment it finally gives up. I don't understand it, anymore. It's like I have two people inside me at all times. My mind tells me that this is bonkers while my heart does this stupid thing like stop beating whenever he is around. All I want is to sink into his arms and never leave.
" Don't come crying to me when it will come biting you in the ass," Enid warns, and I'm mesmerised by the grace with which he moves as he leans forward and places his arms on the table. Such a mundane gesture, and he made it look as if it was the most intricate dance move, but executed flawlessly.
What's wrong with me?
" When have I ever cried?" He challenges, and I look at Enid waiting breathless for the answer.
Enid puts on her thinking face, and comically taps her finger on her cheek, " When I took that little toy you made. I believe you were five at the time," Five?
" Is Mason your son?" That's it. I've reached my quota for secrets.
Enid laughs," No dear. Weren't you listening," I was and I wasn't.
" Your father, bless him," She sighs and reaches for the wine, " He found Mason one day, beaten to a pulp, and took him to the hospital. But when they tried to find his family. They found that he had none," I swallow, my throat is dry and constricted. I had pictured countless scenarios of how my father had offered a helping hand to Mason, but this wasn't one of them.
" Anyway, your father was a good man," Enid sighs," At the time I worked as a secretary at one of the offices he did accounting for. We were friends, and he knew my situation. We got to talking one day, when Mason was still in the hospital, recovering. And he asked me if I could take in a lost soul. And I did," At this point, Mason was listening to the story with the same interest as I did. As if hearing it for the first time.
" And now here we are," Enid unclasps her hands, and opens her arms wide, with a big smile. And my respect and love for her grows tenfold.
My gaze drifts back to Mason who cleared his throat uneasy at the revelation. He probably doesn't walk around advertising the story of how he came to be, but I for one I'm glad that she told me.
" You do not like to think of yourself as my mother but you are, in every sense of the word," Mason says after a while, solemnly.
" I just did what any person would have done. A kind deed. That doesn't give me any special right," Enid sighs, and lowers her gaze," You have repaid me. And you have repaid Hector. There is no need to feel indebted anymore, Mason," Enids adds a bit coldly, which is a contrast to her warm and loving nature. It strikes me a bit odd. Her rationale is an oversimplification of the human rapport.